


i'm out of focus, i'm indisposed

by sapphictomaz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, i think this is a happy ending but i have been told my happy endings aren't so happy, its a soulmate au!, the death isn't till the very very end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphictomaz/pseuds/sapphictomaz
Summary: [..."this is the world they live in, he supposes. This is the world they live in - a world where you get one chance at love and once you’ve used that up, your wrist scars up and your heart seals up and that’s that, you had your chance, goodbye, see you in the next life, maybe..."]or, a soulmate au, where you have a tattoo of the first and last words your soulmate will say to you. title from "sorrow" by sleeping at last.





	i'm out of focus, i'm indisposed

**Author's Note:**

> i listened purely to sleeping at last's 'atlas: year two' while writing this so if you're looking for music let me point you there!

**i.**

Murphy hasn’t slept since the night Clarke’s soulmate died.

He hasn’t done much of anything except sit and sit and think and - 

_ “She said the words. She said the words, she told me to have a good day, and I didn’t think about it too much this time because that’s what she said every day and - and then I heard it, I heard her cry but she didn’t  _ say _ anything, and I ran outside and held her in my arms even when the car kept on driving.” _

_ “God, Clarke, that’s awful.” _

_ “She - She kept trying to speak. She kept trying to say something to prove that they wouldn’t be her last words but she couldn’t say anything and then she was  _ dead _ , Murphy!” _

So, yeah. He hasn’t slept since he spent the night with Clarke, since he finally got her to rest in his bed and then he came to the living room with a drink in one hand and his tattooed wrist exposed in front of him and now he just -

he just sits. 

This is the world they live in, he supposes. This is the world they live in - a world where you get one chance at love and once you’ve used that up, your wrist scars up and your heart seals up and that’s that, you had your chance, goodbye, see you in the next life, maybe.

Maybe then you’ll do it right, this time.

Murphy sits all through the night and a little bit later with a drink in his hand that he hasn’t actually drunk and his right wrist exposed up for the world to see.

Clarke doesn’t stir for a while. Even when she stumbles into the living room sometime past noon, she hasn’t really woken. 

 

**ii.**

This is how the stories go;

The universe, because it’s just oh-so-kind, gives everyone one soulmate. As you age, two tattooed lines, one on each wrist, grow darker and more distinct. Eventually they will become so bold that everyone, regardless of who they are, will read your lines before they look at your face.

On your left wrist are the first words your soulmate will ever say to you; on your right wrist are the last.

These days, Murphy likes to wear a watch.

 

**iii.**

Clarke’s soulmate was named Lexa, and her funeral is small. 

Bellamy is in attendance. For once, this has nothing to do with Murphy’s presence. Still, he can’t help but gaze at Bellamy’s left wrist, reading  **_un-fucking-real_ ** . The first thing Bellamy’s soulmate said to him was a vulgar, made-up word.

He doesn’t look at the other wrist. He doesn’t need to.

After the service, Murphy places a protective arm around Clarke’s shoulder and guides her to the car. He lets her situate herself and calm down before he starts the engine and drives wordlessly back to his apartment. 

Clarke and Lexa’s love was pure. It was everything Murphy longs for in his life, but one semi-truck going the wrong way down the road was all it took for Clarke to hear the words etched on her right wrist.

Before, the words  **_have a good day_ ** sat proudly on her skin.

Now, a jagged red line cuts through them, making them unreadable. The line pulses an angry red, a sign of a recent loss. In the next few days it will scar over but it will never heal quite right.

 

**iv.**

All their friends come over that night. Monty and Harper arrive first. They’re leaning on each other for support, but trying not to show it out of courtesy. Raven and Emori are not far behind, Echo arriving with them. Immediately, she latches onto Clarke and gives her a tight hug. She, too, had lost her soulmate. 

_ All _ their friends come. This means Bellamy comes over, too, though Murphy is sure he never told him his address. 

They sit in a circle, passing around a bottle and telling stories of Lexa. Some of them laugh, some of them cry. For tonight, Clarke is alright.

“Hey, Murphy,” Bellamy says, sidling up beside him like Murphy knew he would. “Can I talk to you? Please?”

Murphy can’t say ‘no’ in front of all their friends so he nods and lets Bellamy drag him into the kitchen, but he is determined to stay silent.

For a moment, they stand with arms crossed and eyes locked into each other. “What do you want?” Murphy finally says. 

“Don’t be like that.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“No, we haven’t. Not  _ really _ .”

Murphy sighs. “I don’t know what you want from me, Blake.” It’s exasperation talking.

“Call me Bellamy, for one.”

“No.”

“You can’t even give me that?”

Murphy’s eyes fall to the floor. “I guess not.”

“This whole time, it’s all been about what  _ you _ want and what  _ you _ need. I’ll support you, Murphy, but you have to give me  _ something _ .”

Their eyes meet, again, but they’re miles apart. “I can’t.”

 

**v.**

_ Murphy’s wearing a Marvel t-shirt when it happens, which is risky in itself, but he lost a bet with Clarke and this is his punishment. He thinks it says something like “I’m Team Marvel, Aren’t You?” but he’s too embarrassed to check. _

_ “Lexa is meeting us here in a couple minutes,” Clarke says. They’re outside a cheap clothing store in the only mall their town has to offer. “She’s bringing one of her good friends, so be nice.” _

_ “I’m always nice!” _

_ Clarke’s rolling eyes suggest otherwise.  _

_ “I just want you to find your soulmate,” Clarke hums, rifling through a clothing rack full of clearance items. “This might help!” _

_ Sadly, she’s not wrong. Murphy’s left wrist reads  _ **_I prefer DC, actually_ ** _ , and it mortifies him that the first thing his soulmate will ever say to him is about cinematic universes based on comic books he hasn’t read. _

_ “I don’t want some random person in the mall to be my soulmate.” _

_ “Well,  _ someone _ is your soulmate. Maybe they’re here.” _

_ “Clarke, I don’t even want a soulmate. You know that better than anyone.” _

_ She stops picking through the clearance selection and looks him right in the eye. “Murphy, you aren’t your mother.” _

_ Maybe so, but he’ll never forget what the death of his father did to her.  _

 

**vi.**

Three weeks pass in a blur. Clarke sits next to Murphy, the two of them huddled in front of his fireplace. Red rings surround her eyes. 

“I want you to be happy, Murphy,” she says.

“I am happy.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Maybe so.

 

**vii.**

The next time he sees Bellamy, it’s at Monty and Harper’s two year anniversary. 

“Tell us the story!” Emori declares, putting her fist down on the table. They’re at a pretty fancy restaurant, appetizers laid out around the circular table. 

Harper laughs and looks at Monty the way the stars look at the moon, but he gestures for her to continue. “You tell it better,” he says. 

“Okay! So, we were both in the same biology class, and we got paired up to be lab partners for this project. Now, I’d never met this guy before, so I had no idea what to expect. Honestly, I thought he was kind of eclectic and strange more than anything else!”

(at this point, Emori interrupts to laugh loudly. Raven quickly shushes her before gesturing for Harper to continue) - 

“Anyways, we started the lab in silence, until I realized that in my hurry to make it to class on time I hadn’t packed a pen. So I leaned over, and go, ‘hey, do you have a pen? Preferably blue.’

“Right after, his face turned  _ white _ , I swear, and after a solid thirty seconds of silence he looked up at me and goes, ‘nobody has ever said that to me before!’”

The table erupts in laughter. Monty holds up his left wrist for all to see, the words  **_do you have a pen? Preferably blue_ ** tattooed there. He’s smiling enough to light the room. Harper holds her wrist up as well. Her words,  **_nobody has ever said that to me before_ ** , match perfectly.

Harper continues, “So we finish the lab somehow pretty normally, despite these revelations. Afterwards, he asks if I want to go back to his dorm with him to talk, so of course I go. Like five minutes into our initial conversation, he gets down on one knee and proposes!”

“What can I say? I trust the universe,” Monty says.

“And here we are, two years later,” Harper agrees. “I’m so grateful I took a chance on this.”

“You guys are the cutest!” Emori cries, holding up her glass. The group joins her in her cheers. 

Across the table, Bellamy catches Murphy’s eye. 

 

**viii.**

People like Monty and Harper make Murphy believe in love.

People like his parents make him weary of it.

People like Clarke and Lexa confirm his worst fears.

All in all, he doesn’t know where he stands, and it’s killing him.

 

**ix.**

_ He’s wearing an embarrassing Marvel t-shirt and Lexa comes up to meet them, greeting Clarke with a quick kiss. “This is Bellamy,” she says after, gesturing to a raven-haired guy behind her with wildly chiseled jawline. _

_ Bellamy’s eyes catch Murphy’s shirt. “I prefer DC, actually,” he says, and everything in Murphy’s mind flies out the window. _

 

**x.**

It’s not fair what he’s doing. Bellamy deserves a soulmate. He’s a wonderful guy. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

But Murphy - 

Murphy’s selfish. He was raised to be. 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he says, brushing by Bellamy on their way out of Monty and Harper’s fancy dinner. 

Murphy’s a liar, too.

 

**xi.**

On Murphy’s right wrist are two words. 

**_Get down!_ **

He doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t know what’s coming. There’s no way those words can end peacefully, though, that much he does know.

 

**xii.**

“I’m not going to give up on us.”

“I already have.”

He’s not about to become his mother.

 

**xiii.**

_ Murphy always thought that, when he heard those words, he’d just keep quiet. He wouldn’t say anything at all, and that way, the universe wouldn’t be able to seal him in some contract with some guy and he’d never have to do what he’s doing now and it would work out best for everyone involved and -  _

_ and in that moment, he can’t think. _

_ It’s not fair. This isn’t fair. He doesn’t deserve to have this. He doesn’t -  _

_ fuck Clarke and her stupid bets -  _

_ this whole situation can’t be happening, not now, not ever -  _

_ he’s already becoming his mother -  _

_ “Un-fucking-real,” he whispers before he can stop himself. Bellamy’s eyes widen in alarm. Clarke’s joyful squeals sound more like a warning than a celebration.  _

_ Just that like, their fates are tied, and they don’t get a way out. _

 

**xiv.**

They’re at a bar, this time, and Murphy’s drunk off his ass. He doesn’t like to drink - not after what alcohol did to his mother, to his family - but lately the thought of escaping reality is just too enticing. 

He gives into his weaknesses too easily. 

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying, leaning heavily on Bellamy as club music pulsates in the background. The beat matches the rhythm of his heart. 

“Don’t worry,” Bellamy laughs. He’s completely sober. It’s unfair.

“I’m just - I’m sorry that I’m - I’m  _ this _ .” At this, Murphy tries to step forwards but stumbles. Bellamy’s grip saves him from a fall. 

“Right,” Bellamy says. “I’m going to take you home.” Clarke and Raven are here somewhere, too, but Murphy’s already forgotten.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine-” 

And, well, whatever he was going to say doesn’t really matter because Bellamy’s already leading him out the door and helping him get into his car and wow, he doesn’t deserve this at all.

“Don’t be silly,” Bellamy says softly. Murphy can’t remember what he’s said aloud. 

“No, really, you should be with someone who isn’t as fucked up.” His words are slurring and his eyes are slipping shut.

“None of that, Murphy.”

“No, really…I don’t deserve it…”

 

**xv.**

The next morning Murphy wakes up on the couch. 

His head’s pounding, his mouth is dry, and it’s tough to open his eyes all the way. “Fuck,” he whispers, sitting up a little bit to see Bellamy eyeing him from a chair.

“You’re alive,” Bellamy comments, oddly monotone.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You remember anything?”

He remembers leaving to the bar - drinking a bit, dancing and then - “Not really.”

“Probably for the best,” Bellamy says, sighing and then rising from the chair. “Don’t worry, Raven messaged me that Clarke is just as hungover. Are you going to be alright?”

Murphy nods, though that makes his head pound harder. “Yeah.”

Bellamy returns the nod and then turns. “Wait!” Murphy says just before he passes through the doorway, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Murphy. It’s what you deserve.”

 

**xvi.**

After that day, Murphy stops drinking. 

He says it’s because he doesn’t want Bellamy to have to look after him anymore, but he’s always going to be a liar.

 

**xvii.**

It’s exactly a year and a month after Lexa’s death when they find themselves reunited at Murphy’s place one more. The evening has been good and light, but as dusk falls into night Murphy steps out onto his balcony, desperate for some air.

Really, it’s no surprise that Bellamy follows him outside.

They stand beside each other for a moment in silence, before Murphy turns his head to look at him full on. “Why do you keep trying so hard?”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy answers, still staring off into the horizon. “You tell me - why don’t you try at all?”

“It’s - It’s different for us.”

Silence, and then a hand on his shoulder is pressing him down and it’s like the world stops turning and his vision tunnels as his knees buckle and he falls, Bellamy joining him at his side.

All he can hear are his words, an unimportant but dedicated  _ “Get down!” _

And it’s all he can hear because that’s it, that’s it, isn’t it, he doesn’t even know what’s on Bellamy’s right wrist but it has to be some bullshit about it being different for them and that’s so  _ stupid _ but the damage is done now it’s over he heard the words Bellamy is probably lying next to him 

dead

and that’s all there is to it and their story is over before it ever really began - 

“Murphy!”

His eyes snap upwards, only now feeling Bellamy’s hands cupping his cheeks. His breath is still short and fast but wait - he definitely heard the words, he heard  _ those _ words but Bellamy is assuredly not dead and he’s spoken once more so - 

“Murphy, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

_ What’s going on? _

“Murphy, please, breathe.”

And he does, because suddenly it’s a lot easier to.

A minute passes before Murphy catches his breath. “Why did you pull me down?”

Bellamy blinks, confused. “There was a bird flying at your face?”

_ Oh. _

Wordlessly, Murphy lifts his right wrist, exposing the dark  **_Get down!_ ** for Bellamy to truly see. He draws in a quick breath, understanding passing between them. He nods, and then - 

Bellamy shows his right wrist to say  **_thank you, for everything._ **

It’s...indescribable, really, to see confirmation of your inevitable death right in front of you.

 

**xviii.**

Maybe one, five, maybe ten minutes later Murphy concedes. “Maybe...maybe it’s not as different between us as I thought it was.”

Bellamy smiles, and they kiss for a moment, only interrupted by the cheering of their friends, still inside. Evidently, they’ve been watching this whole time, and will tease Murphy about that fucking bird for years to come.

 

**xix.**

It won’t be for a few decades until they’re in a convenience store, just stopping to buy some gas, when men with guns enter and declare this is a robbery.

Bellamy, out of instinct, whispers for Murphy to get down. He doesn’t think about it, about the implications of doing so - how can he?

They do get down, but a police siren approaches and the men start yelling. A bullet is shot, entering Murphy’s chest and burrowing itself a home there.

Bellamy’s too choked up to speak, but he’s trying to get a sentence out. Murphy doesn’t care. His blood spills on the floor and he thinks this is too violent an end for such a pure love.

He whispers his thanks as he dies in Bellamy’s arms.

He’s thankful not only for love, but for the proof that men do not become their mothers.

 

**xx.**

_ Somewhere, sometime, in the next life; _

_ Murphy will be wearing a Marvel t-shirt loud and proud, and a boy will catch his eye from across a clothing store.  _

_ “I prefer DC, actually,” the boy will say. _

_ “Un-fucking-real,” Murphy will scoff, but they’ll smile at each other and shake hands and learn they are not so different, after all. _

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! hope it wasn't -too- sad. love u <3


End file.
